Beyond a Reasonable Doubt
by Entr0py
Summary: "The Prince looks down at me. His red-gold eyes and black hair are familiar. I guess it doesn't matter- I'll never be his wife anyway." AU- Mareena Titanos was groomed for Queentrial- if you consider being hidden away being groomed. But Mareena is very different from the rest of her house. Sure, she might win Queenstrial- but the Royals have a lot more in store for her.
1. I

**A/N- Finally started this story! It might be a bit confusing at first (considering Mare is born into House Titanos, some stuff might not make sense) but it will definitely all be explained later!**

* * *

I

 _ **Five years previously**_

Living a double life is most certainly a difficult task. At this point, I don't remember if I knew how hard it would be when I made the decision. Of course, I should be thinking about things more "suited to my taste," also known as the crown prince Tiberias and how much I wanted to marry him. If I'm to be honest, which is a rarity in Archeon, I hardly remember what the boy looks like. All I know is that he has black hair- and _loads_ of people have black hair. But no, all I'm supposed to do is swoon over him and long to be queen.

I guess that's why I chose to flee every night to the Red villages; mainly the ones closest to Archeon, so no one gets suspicious. Here, there is brutal honesty, there are true friends. I am not a true friend, I think as I pull and ruffle at my hair, to make myself look like a Red "devil." To be honest, Reds aren't all that bad. In fact, they're far warmer than any Silver I've ever met, though a million times as hardened and suspicious. I feel bad deceiving them- it aches in my chest and shivers through me every time I pass by any Red in the street.

People in the Silver world hardly know who I am anyway- I mean, they know who I _am-_ but they've never really seen me. I've got a "problem," as my House, Titanos, so kindly states to anyone who asks. They act like I'm deathly ill, but everyone is starting to see through it at this point. I'm not exactly sure why they're hiding me; if they want to surprise everyone with my unusual powers or just hide my "actual problem."

I know my way around Red cities. This is a small one, very close to Archeon. It's hardly documented. I assume that's because the Silvers don't want to acknowledge that Red "filth" lives that near their primary base. My fingers skim the rim of a pond, ripples sending out over the water. I lift my hand, then dip my index finger back into the water, swirling it around and watching the water ripple. I don't have much to do, to be honest. Since I'm stuck in my room "sick" 99% of the time, I don't know many people to think about. Sure, there's the people of House Titanos, but I've thought about them for five years straight- I don't need to anymore.

Leaves rustle nearby me. "There's someone else here?" a male says, startled. I push my hair back, tucking it behind my ear and raising my head, turning to face him. "He" is a black-haired, tall boy, with red-gold eyes that glint warmly. He is familiar, but I can't place anything.

"Obviously."

He raises his eyebrows at me, but settles down near me anyway. He's still keeping a good distance, though, like he's afraid I might lunge over and strangle him. I fold my legs underneath me, leaning back over the water. I notice from the corner of my eye that he smirks. "Not good with people?" he says.

I roll my eyes. "You're observant." I can't say he's wrong- I _am_ bad with people. House Titanos treats me like a contagious disease, trapping me in my rooms, with few people besides maids and servants to talk to. Maids and servants are awkward around me, as I'm their superior. But I have more in common with them than they'd ever think.

He raises his eyebrows. "It's a talent," he replies, just as dryly, but he's still smirking. "What's your name?" he adds, his tone a little politer.

I glance over at him, shifting my legs and leaning back. He seems awkward, but then again, so am I. "Mare," I say easily. "Mare Barrow." It's a fake name- why would I reveal my actual name to him? It's the name I always use here, around Reds- and while he is pale like a Silver, I wouldn't reveal my name to him anyway. He might spread it, and then what would happen? That's the lesson House Titanos has drilled into my brain. " _If_ you ever meet anyone," they had added. "Which you won't. For a while, anyway."

He nods, just a little. He glances back up to me, smiling a little. "I'm Cal," he says, holding out a hand. "Nice to meet you." I glance back, shifting away from him. I pause.

"Pleasure," I reply, as genuinely as I can imagine.

"Are you from around here?" he says curiously. I tense, but attempt to relax when he raises an eyebrow. I sigh deeply.

I bite my lip. "Well, yeah," I say, as casually as I can muster. "I thought it was rather obvious." If my self-inflicted messiness says anything.

He looks confused for a moment by my sharpness, but it quickly passes and he nods again. "Are you heading back soon?" he says, sounding like he would walk me back.

"Erm.." I glance to the right, then shake my head. "No, but soon," I lie.

"Oh. Alright," says Cal, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "So..tell me about yourself."

 _ **Present Day**_

"Queenstrial!" shouts Ethan, slamming my door open. I yelp, throwing myself backwards.

"Jesus Christ, Ethan!" I cry. Ethan is my cousin, but he's named after my father, the dead general Ethan Titanos. "What do you mean, Queenstrial?" I say, calming myself.

Ethan grins toothily at me. Ethan is the only one really close to me- he doesn't care about my _secret._ He's loud, and kind of obnoxious at sometimes, but he's funny, and sweet when he needs to be. "You're competing in Queenstrial," he says to me, almost proud. "Father- my father, sorry," he adds, when I wince, my father still being a sore spot for me, "says you're the most qualified daughter to compete."

"Really?" I say in shock. Putting me out there is a risky move. My powers are different than the rest of House Titanos. And, of course, there is the mess that is my blood color. Plus, Ethan's father- who is the Head of House Titanos- never liked me that much.

"Yeah," exclaims Ethan, grinning proudly at me. He's a good few years younger- my father was dead by the time he was born- but he acts like he's my older brother, or something like that.

I sigh. "Great," I groan, "I hardly even remember what he looks like, and I'm in the running to marry him."

"Relax," he says. "House Samos is probably going to win."

I pull on my training shoes, smoothing my hair back and pulling it up into a ponytail. "Whatever," I mumble. "I assume he wants me in the training room?" I say, referring to his father. Ethan bobs his head in a easy nod, and I grumble under my breath.

"C'mon, Mareena," says Ethan. "It's not that bad."

"Are you the one competing?" I challenge, and he rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Lead the way, Eth." He smirks as I straighten and walk past him.

"This will be fun," he says, easily catching up with me and slinging and arm around my shoulders. I shove him off, rolling my eyes at him. We're only allowed to be childish around the other, so we take advantage of it as often as we can. "You'll be sparring me, of course."

I pick at the sleeves on my dress, rubbing the shock-proof fabric between my fingers. I glance up at him, smirking. "Prepare to get shocked, dear boy."

* * *

 **(Yes, I know it's confusing that Shade, Bree, Tramy, and Gisa aren't here- but they'll appear later, don't worry! Ethan isn't exactly replacing them. I hope you all enjoyed!)**


	2. II

**II.**

"That was a lucky shot," I grumble, brushing off my training suit. Ethan raises his eyebrows at me from where he stands, a cocky grin working its way across his face.

He tilts his head to the side, reveling in my defeat. "Is that so?" he says. So far, I've defeated him twice, and him twice for me. I struggle to my feet, placing my hands on my hips and standing flatly as a Healer comes to tend to the both of us.

"Yep," I declare. "Best of five!" I grin at him, and he shakes his head at me, muttering something under his breath that sounds like "can't take defeat." The Healers step back, and before they take more than a few steps, I tackle Ethan, my hands sparking up. He shrieks, stumbling backwards.

"Unfair!" he shouts, but more sparks shoot out at him, and he dodges to the left. "You're a cheater," he grumbles, lunging towards me. I jump further back, away from him.

"You win playing dirty, not playing fair," I say, grinning cheekily. Red and silver blood stains the floor, but to us, the color hardly matters. I jerk back and grasp his arm, sparks jumping to my fingertips. He seizes, stumbling back.

Shaking his head to recover, he exclaims determinedly, "You're on, sister."

* * *

"How is your training going?" Nicholas Titanos, Ethan's father, my uncle, and the Head of House Titanos, asks. Of course, I know he only cares about making a show - he much prefers Ethan to me. I don't mind, I never liked him much anyway.

"Very well," I say politely. "But I must keep training. I would not like to disappoint our House." The rest of the people at the table give me smiles, including Ethan, but his eyes are uncertain.

Nicholas grins. "Indeed, Mareena," he says. "Queenstrial is quickly approaching. I am expecting very good things from you, and I doubt you'll disappoint us." But the hidden message behind his words is much more sinister. _You better not disappoint us._

"Y-Yes, of course." I straighten further. I check the calendar. Queenstrial is in three days. I clench my fork tighter, the thought of Queenstrial making me sick to my stomach. I have to show off in front of all those people, and probably not even win. But of course, as a High House lady, it's my duty.

The rest of dinner passes without me having to talk again, thank God.

Ethan catches up to me after dinner, following quickly. "Nerves getting to you?"

I glance back to him. "Kind of," I reply. I smirk playfully. "That, and I completely forget what the prince looks like."

"The horror of being behind the times," teases Ethan, flicking my head. Ethan is much taller than me, with brown hair like mine, but pale skin.

"Not my fault, is it?" I reply, shoving him. It's lighthearted, but still brings back bad memories. I shake them away quickly- I'm a seventeen-year-old joking with Ethan, not a twelve-year-old stuck in my room all day. Except for when I sneak out to the Red villages- but that doesn't count, does it? Sneaking out to Red villages was something I'd needed to keep under wraps. But I was good at keeping things under wraps- and so was House Titanos, no matter how much I hated them for it. I don't like House Titanos much- forcing me to do things like constantly wearing makeup, or staying in my room because they had some important guest over and they didn't want me blowing anything.

They try to hide my blood, to make me separate from it, but they judge me based on it themselves.

* * *

Today is the day.

I'm sure anyone would know what I mean, because for a High House lady, there is only one day that is "the" day- Queenstrial. My hair is brushed, my skin painted to cover up any red trace. Lipstick is applied, and so is eyeshadow and mascara. I find this stupid- why would they be looking at my face if I'm showing off my powers?- and I'm sure they know it, but I'm also sure they don't care. I am, of course, their representative, their sole daughter for this Queenstrial. And I am different. I am, in their words, "electrifying."

Ethan meets me by my door. He bounces nervously on his feet- I guess he's worried about me. It makes me feel better that at least someone actually cares about me. I follow him without question.

"You're going last," he mutters, leading me down a tunnel. "After the Samos daughter, Evangeline."

"Great." I purse my lips as he takes me to a huge room beneath what I assume is the Spiral Garden. "Now I'll really have to put on a good show, huh?"

He laughs nervously. He stops in front of the doorway, me standing in front of him. "You'll do great. Even if they don't choose you, it's probably because of your house, not your performance." He's obviously trying to make me feel better, but I shiver anyway.

"I know," I murmur. "Bye, Ethan."

"Bye, Mareena." I turn away before he goes, walking to a spot behind a girl with silver hair, black eyes, and a leather jacket studded with iron. She practically screams "House Samos." She sends me a glance before shifting back to her original position, arms crossed over her chest in a confident gesture. I guess this is Evangeline, judging by how sure she seems that she'll win. To be honest, simply based on her appearance, I agree.

The line of girls in front of Evangeline and I deteriorates one by one. There's a screen hanging on the wall for us to watch if we're bored, which shows the other daughters of the High Houses. Evangeline hardly looks at it, but I glance back to it every once in a while. Once they're done, each daughter returns down to this room, sitting down in one of the many chairs and in front of large tables, chatting quietly amongst themselves. Eventually, Evangeline steps onto the rising platform, sending a triumphant smirk down at us as she goes.

I don't watch the screens, fingers twitching with anticipation. Evangeline sinks back down on the platform, not even sparing me a glance as she steps off into the room, a smirk plastered on her face. I take a deep breath and step onto the rising platform.

 _Here goes nothing._

The arena is a mess- seriously, it's _literally_ a mess. Metal pipes jut up everywhere, holes in the ground and walls. "Mareena, of House Titanos," chants my House. People gasp and lean over- I have no doubts that I'm a hot topic among them, being as mysterious as I am, with me being locked up in my room all the time. The King and Queen exchange looks.

The Prince looks down at me. His red-gold eyes and black hair are familiar. I guess it doesn't matter- I'll never be his wife anyway.

I walk to the middle of the arena, raising my hand upwards, my sleeve falling back. Sparks jump to my fingertips, and gasps echo around the arena, even the Royals looking astonished. I twirl, raising my other hand, sparks shooting out and electrifying the arena. The lightning shield pulses, and I laugh, shooting bolts here and there. I halt, suddenly, and everyone's breath catches. I glance to the sky- it's begun to get cloudy. It's going to rain soon.

Good for me.

One hand raising to the sky, the storm pulses through me, the electricity making my nerves sing.

 **BAM!**

Shrieks escape the crowd, scattering backwards in their boxes as the lightning bolt slams into the arena, just behind me. The King and Queen lean over their box edge, the Prince standing behind them.

I would have practically skipped to the platform if the bolt hadn't sapped pretty much all my energy. I stand as straight as I can, walking as confidently as I possibly could with all that energy being sapped to the platform.

When it sinks, I have a grin on my face.

 _ **A/N; What's this? Entr0py updating twice in a day? The apocalypse is nigh..**_

 _ **Just kidding. I know it might seem weird that she can do the lightning bolt already, but even though it seems like she's only been training since Ethan announced she was going to be in Queenstrial, she actually trained a lot before that, mainly when she was bored. Besides, she still can't do multiple strikes like she did in the books.**_

 _ **Hope you enjoyed**_

 _ **-Entr0py**_


	3. III

**III.**

"Mareena, you did great!" exclaims Ethan, slinging an arm around my shoulders. I grumble, shoving him off, but I smile at him anyway. "I'm gonna let you in on something," he adds as we step through the doors of the Titanos settlement. He leans down to me, and whispers exaggeratedly, "I think you're a court favorite." He grins lopsidedly.

"You're joking," I say, shaking my head.

"No, I'm serious," he says, grinning sincerely this time. "Everyone's been gossiping about you since Father announced you were the daughter they were presenting in Queenstrial, and they seemed to adore you even more after your performance out there."

I pale, looking up at him. "What the heck, Ethan?" I exclaim. "If people actually like me... then I might get chosen!" I rub my forehead, eyes wide. "Oh no, oh no! I don't want to be chosen, Ethan!" I cry.

"People like you- even more than Evangeline Samos, Mareena." Ethan shakes his head, frowning. "For good reason. You'd be a much better queen. And you might have more than one friend there," he adds in a morose whisper, like he's upset to see me go, even though I still probably won't. I glance down, shaking my head quickly. He raises his eyebrows at me, eyes wide and curious.

"Don't worry," I mutter. "It's more likely Evangeline will be chosen over me, anyway. Just..don't worry." He squeezes my arm.

"Okay," he whispers.

* * *

I take deep breaths as I stand behind Evangeline- again- but this time, we're waiting for the most important part of Queenstrial- the part where Prince Tiberias chooses. Evangeline glances back disdainfully at me, then glances forward again, to the long line of girls in front of us. When the line starts moving, I jump, startled, but quickly calm when Evangeline snickers under her breath.

We sit in chairs, in full view of the boxes. I sit next to Evangeline, fingers twitching in anticipation. The king starts speaking, but I don't listen, and from the looks of it, the other Queenstrial girls don't either. At least, not until Prince Tiberias steps up.

"I am my father's heir, born to privilege and power and strength. You owe me your allegiance, just as I owe you my life. It is my duty to serve you and my kingdom as best I can- and beyond." I'm not sure if he's acting or he truly believes in himself- either is interesting enough, though, I suppose. Part of me wonders what he is like, behind that mask he paints on. "I need a queen who will sacrifice just as much as I will, to maintain order, justice, and balance."

The other Queenstrial girls lean forward excitedly, and I can't help but join them. Only Evangeline stays still, smirking, and House Samos looks calm. But my house looks calm, too. _How could that be?_

"Lady Mareena."

I freeze, and the other girls full on gasp, even Evangeline's smirk dropping, her eyes going wide. House Samos in its entirety looks shocked, but none of the others. Ethan's words ring in my mind again. _"People like you- even more than Evangeline Samos, Mareena."_ He was- he was serious. I guess hiding me- giving me my mysterious value- made people like me more than I had ever thought.

I hesitantly stand, straightening my dress out. I fix my expression into a collected one, feeling the glares of a million other girls burning into my back. I breathe in quietly, and out just as softly, trying my damn best to not glance back at any of the girls- especially Evangeline Samos.

"In the eyes of my royal father and the noble court, I would ask for your hand in marriage. I pledge myself to you, Mareena Titanos. Will you accept?"

Part of me wants to scream _no,_ to run and hide, but I know I can't. Not now that he's chosen me. I finally take a deep breath and breathe, "I pledge myself to you, Prince Tiberias." My hands squeeze into fists, nails digging into my skin. "I accept."

* * *

I breathe heavily, sitting next to Prince Tiberias during dinner. His gaze flicks over to me every so often. Eventually he says quietly, "You okay, Mareena?"

"Yes, Tiberias," I mutter, clenching my fork tighter.

"Cal," he replies in a low tone. The name stirs memories, like his appearance does, but I can't place anything, like before. "Call me Cal- it's a family nickname."

I twinge at 'family.' "All right," I say as evenly as possibly. "Cal it is, then." I make a weak attempt to smile, but I'm not quite sure it works. He smiles back too, though, so I assume it's all right at the very least.

I glance back to Evangeline, who is perched on one of the seats closest to her brother, Ptolewhatever. I don't remember many members of House Samos, but I doubt I'll ever forget Evangeline. She casts a glance over to me, her eyes narrowing, glare sharpening. I swallow, but don't look away. Looking away would be pathetic, submissive- I will not look away. Not if I'm going to be queen.

This is going to be a challenge.

Cal glances over to me, looking concerned. "You okay?" he says carefully. I frown at him.

"Fine," I mutter. His brother, Maven, looks at me from across the table. When he sees that I've noticed, he glances down to his food again, almost embarrassed. I shift a little on my seat, swallowing the last of my food as the toasts start. Ethan's father toasts for me, clearly irking House Samos, but they all- begrudgingly or not- stand and toast with him.

I follow Cal out of the room, trembling slightly even though I try to stop it. He squeezes my hand, trying to comfort me. I glance back up at him. He's confusing, that's for sure- but I guess that draws me to him. However much I don't want to admit it.

 _Well, that won't be a problem for you,_ I remind myself. _You're marrying him. And then you'll know him, maybe._ I glance back to him, wondering for just a moment on how he feels about this. Just for a moment.

Evangeline grasps my arm as I pass. I stop for a moment, and she pastes a smile on. Between gritted teeth, she hisses, "You better watch your back, Lightning Girl." She lets go, her smile dropping, and I hurry as gracefully as I could back to Cal's side. He takes my hand again, as dictated by protocol, but he casts an uncertain frown over at me, a silent question.

I don't answer.


	4. IV

**IV.**

"You're doing well."

I raise my eyebrows. Maven, complimenting someone? What a surprise. But I suppose we are both outcasts, we both don't fit in. I suppose we fit each other that way- though I have no interest in Cal's younger brother. I clear my throat, the sparks on my hands fizzling out. "Thank you," I say. I turn back to the targets, one hand resting on my hip, the other sparking up again. "You're not too bad yourself."

To my surprise, Maven chuckles lightly. "Thanks for trying to make me feel better." I roll my eyes.

"It's not a problem," I reply sarcastically. Maven takes a place at the target next to mine, fire starting to curl around his wrists. He smirks slightly. I don't understand him, really- he gives off a strange vibe, like I shouldn't trust him, but he seems rather pleasant at the same time.

"Nice to know you're more outgoing than Cal says." He steps backwards, turning to me with a smirk still plastered on his face.

"Uh-huh," I grumble. He laughs, just a little. Poor Maven, never acknowledged. He seems nice enough, I guess. Part of me understands him, the twelve-year-old stuck in her bedroom, watching sparks flare up in her hands. But that part of me is gone- I am going to be Queen now. I _will_ be Queen.

At least, that's what I hope. A voice in the back of my head whispers, _That part of you will never disappear. And you know it._ That voice sends a shiver down my spine, but thankfully, I don't think the second prince notices it.

* * *

I stand at the edge of a balcony, twining my hair around my finger, watching the clouds pass as the sun sets. Considering it's late summer- we're going back to Archeon soon- the sun is starting to set earlier, and I have no set tasks at the moment. It's a cool day, despite it being summer, with a quiet, soft breeze that blows every so often. The balcony is white, secluded, and a good place to think.

"Lady Mareena," a sweet voice calls. "How are you?"

I turn to the person, my eyes widening when I see who it is- _Queen Elara._ "Fine, thank you, Your Highness," I reply as courteously as I can. "And yourself?" I turn to face her, pulling my hair out of my face.

"Excellent," she replies with a smirk. "Thank you for asking, Mareena." She easily made her way to the balcony as well, taking a position right next to me. "Beautiful, is it not?" she says quietly.

"Yes, Your Highness," I say quietly, nodding. "It's very beautiful indeed."

"You know," Elara muses, shifting on her feet, "I would quite enjoy having a sibling. Wouldn't you?" She turns to me with a wry smile, and I tense. Continuing like I hadn't reacted at all, Elara adds, "I have cousins upon cousins, but no siblings. You have siblings, don't you, Lady Mareena?"

"N-No, Your Majesty," I stumble. "I don't believe I have any siblings."

The Queen's smile widens at my distress. "Oh, you don't _believe,_ do you, dear?" she crows delightedly. "Because I could have _sworn_ I had seen you with some sisters or brothers when you were just a mere child, Mareena."

"Your Highness, why would you have seen me when I was a child?" I say as politely as I can muster. "I was ever so sickly, I'm surprised you were allowed to visit. Hardly anyone was, after all, but I guess you're not just _anyone._ "

"Oh, well," Elara says conversationally, "there were rumors of your strange powers ever since you were a little girl, Mareena." A wicked smile twines across her face. "And, of course, as you said yourself... I am not just _anyone._ "

I shift, inching slightly away from the Whisper Queen. "Yes, Your Majesty," I reply warily.

* * *

Cal blinks over at me. "You look upset, Mareena."

"I am upset," I exclaim indignantly. He frowns at me, but he looks less confused and more concerned.

"What about?" he says, almost soothingly. I shake my head at him.

"Nothing you can do," I say, and I'm surprised by the softness in my voice. _No, no, Mareena!_ I scold myself. _You're not supposed to like him!_

He doesn't look hurt, just concerned, still. Shifting further back into his seat, he says, "Okay, Mareena."

For a long while, we sit like that. My gaze flits to him every now and again, and whenever it does I notice him look away. Every time I'm not looking at him, he's looking at me, and whenever he's not looking at me, I'm looking at him. It's a weird sort of cycle that goes on until he blurts, "Can I call you Mare?"

Mare. That was my fake name, a name of deception held among the Reds. But it- and the Red girl that went with it- died during Queenstrial, if not before then. if it isn't a fake name, then I suppose that I could use it as a nickname. Mareena is far too long anyway- that's the only reason I'm saying yes. Right.

"Sure," I say. I smile a little. "It goes with you having a nickname, too, doesn't it?"

He raises his eyebrows- I guess at me suddenly being so friendly to him, and to be honest, I don't blame him one bit- but smiles in response, too. "Yeah, I guess it does, doesn't it, _Mare_?" he replies, emphasizing his new nickname for me.

I laugh a little. Laughing. I haven't done that in a while, huh? I glance to him, smirking. "You know, you're not so bad, Prince Cal," I tease, for once almost forgetting that we're fated to be married- King and Queen- one day.

Cal smirks right back at me. "Right back at you, Lady Mare."

 **A/N; hoooooly shit dID YOU GUYS READ THE FIRST CHAPTER OF GLASS SWORD? Cause it's good. It's really good and I'm so excited omfg!**

 **There's not much to this chapter I guess, lol. Maven/Mare and Cal/Mare fluff. She's starting to like them both a bit, yay.**


	5. V

**V.**

"I had a friend named Mare once," Cal mutters. I glance up, straightening my posture as I set my fork down. I tuck my hair behind my ear, frowning up at him.

The fork _chink_ s against my plate. "You did?" I ask him.

He pauses for a moment, then nods. "Yep," he replies. "Well, we weren't really friends, I guess. We just talked. But she was one of the few people I really opened up to, I think." He bobs his head, taking a sip from a cold glass of water.

"I had a friend named Cal, too," I respond, sighing and propping my head up with my hand in a rather unladylike way. He raises his eyebrows as he turns to me, resting his glass of water back down on the table. I feel myself blush from being put on the spot so suddenly, and quite abruptly I'm rather glad for the paste I have to wear to hide my blood color. "I don't think it was you, though," I murmur again, and Cal blinks before straightening and looking down, almost disappointed. Truth be told, maybe it _was_ him. They did have the same hair and eyes.. even their skin was similar. But why would Cal leave the Silver cities, like I did? He has no reason to. I was always stuck in my room, with no social interaction, so of course that was the only place to escape to. But Cal had a wonderful childhood. He was a prince; he had anything he wanted, people swooning over him, a _kingdom_.

He would have no reason to leave.. unless, maybe, I knew less about the crown prince than I thought.

You know, Mare," Cal suddenly suggests, bringing my attention back to the present, "we really don't know that much about each other." He glances to the ceiling, looking almost _bashful_ all of the sudden, though I'm sure I'm imagining it. "Maybe we could take a walk or something tonight?"

I stare at him. "Won't we get in huge trouble for that?" I ask incredulously.

Cal grins slyly, an expression I never would have imagined on his face, though it seems to suit him, strangely enough. "Only if they catch us," he responds, then chuckles. "But I doubt they'd _really car_ e."

I pause for just a moment. To be fair, I hardly knew him at all; I just knew he had weird similarities to a stranger I'd met once (and vice versa with how he felt towards me). And while it was ridiculously risky (well, not really, but I'd prefer not to get on the others' bad sides) it actually was a good opportunity for us to get to know each other better.

"Okay." I nod at him with a tiny smile, and he brightens.

"Great," he says cheerfully. "Maybe we could meet at 2300? That would be late enough, I think." I confirm with another 'okay' and a slightly larger smile. "All right, then." He glances at the large clock behind us and starts. "I have to get to training," he panics. "Bye, Mare." He sends me a half-hearted smile.

"B-Bye," I call to his retreating form. He swings the door of the mini sort-of-dining hall and leaves. I sigh, letting my posture slump. Cal and I eat alone, most of the time, for whatever reason - I don't know. One of the Red servants stops by me.

"Done, my lady?" he asks timidly. I nod and try to smile kindly at him, standing and straightening. I feel a twinge of guilt as I leave him to pick up he things, though I try to shake it away. I can't be guilty if I am a queen.

I don't have a particular schedule, not like the others. I'm not in training yet, because people are worried about catching my, ah, "disease." The actual royals clearly know I'm not sick, but make no objections, which is just fine with me. All I did in the dainty little residence of House Titanos, besides sitting around inattentively, was train. I don't need anymore reasons to go back to pondering over my memoir of that house. My hands trail up and down my arms, generating warmth over the sudden shivers that appear. Now that I'm stuck in this palace- and I use _stuck_ in a much lighter term than I did in House Titanos's prison of a humble abode- my old memories of House Titanos seem so much worse; I have friends, in a small, tiny sense, in Cal and Maven, and the rest of the people in the palace respect me (although begrudgingly on occasion). Of course, I did have friends in House Titanos... well, one. I did have Ethan.

 _Ethan._ I slump against a door, my eyes downcast. God, I miss Ethan. I didn't even really get to properly say goodbye to him. Of course, I'm absolutely sure Ethan is fine- Ethan had oh so many friends in House Titanos, and even in the Houses outside of it. But I just _miss_ him. Even here, there's no one quite as innocent as him- so happy and bubbly and friendly. I guess, if there was someone close, it would be Maven, though he isn't as bubbly or friendly ( _he's just more innocent than the others_ ).

I glance up at the door I slumped on, eyes widening in surprise when I realize it's mine. "Wonderful," I mutter under my breath, swinging the door open and walking in. The room still feels more like a hotel room, than anything. I sigh and rub my temples, trying to push away my headache so I'll have a clear head during my lessons at 1500.

* * *

I huff under my breath, brushing my hair quickly as I straighten the hems of my dress with the other hand. I have to do this all on my own, as it's nearly time to meet with Cal, but I can't rely on my maids to not blab to the queen and king. I did just get out of the bath, of course, but it's not like I don't know how to dress myself or brush my hair. Pinning a silver accessory in my dark hair, my eyes flit to the clock. 2250. Nearly 2300... great. I hiss under my breath, picking up the pace of my brushing until I've finally de-knotted most of my hair.

Pulling on silver gloves with purple ribbons and finishing smoothing out my dress, I jump at the knock on my door. I look to the clock. 2300 sharp- I guess Cal is really on point. Well, time flies, too. He must have good management. I cross to the door and pull it open.

Surely enough, Cal smiles at me as soon as I open the door. I open my mouth, lost for words for a second until I say, "..Hey."

Cal chuckles at my lack of competence. "Hey," he replies. He steps to the side. "Come on. I know a nice path in the gardens." I nod and smile at him as I exit my room. Cal shuts the door gently behind me, and offers his hand. I blink in surprise for a moment, before hesitantly grasping his hand in return. I feel a surge of warmth, then pawn it off on his ability. It's not much of a big gesture, anyway- the King and Queen hold hands all the time and they don't even like each other.

Cal leads me down the hallway and down steps upon steps. Finally, he swings a large set of fancy doors open and steps out into the gardens.

I look around, my eyes taking in every small detail. The moon casts a faint silver light among the gardens, the night sky slightly dashed with clouds. The gardens themselves are exquisite; small benches litter the area, surrounded by bright flowers and bushes and trees which are so green that it surprises me. "It's, ah..." I trail off for a moment, Cal studying me, before smiling wider. "..Beautiful."

Cal breaks into a wide grin as well. "Yes," he agrees, and beckons to me as he starts ahead. I hurry after him, muttering under my breath that it wasn't very gentleman-like, and he snickers. "So, care to tell me more about yourself?" He blinks at me.

"Uh, right," I say. "Well, I'm seventeen. I'm very socially awkward, cause not many people really liked me back at House Titanos.." I trail off, and Cal raises his eyebrows at me.

"Really?" he says. "I think you're just fine." I blush, suddenly glad for the paste that- "...Mare? You look...red."

I halt, my eyes widening as I look up at him. "Wh-what?" I stammer, paling quickly. _Oh, dammit, of course._ I forgot to put on the silver paste before I left the room- because I took a bath. "What do you mean?"

He studies me carefully for a moment, and I will myself to not blush in the slightest. "...Nothing," he finally says, pulling back. "I guess I was just imagining things." He grins, shrugging. "Sorry."

"N-No, it's fine," I stammer. "A-Anyway." I clear my throat loudly. "I like the color red, actually," I note, swerving away from the previous topic. "Not as much as purple, but..."

Cal laughs a little. "Purple looks good on you, too," he teases, and my eyes widen again before I turn my head to hide my blush. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice him smirk. "Red's an okay color," he says. "I like black better. I don't know. I'm not too fond of the blood colors."

"Yeah," I sigh, "that makes sense."


	6. VI

**a/n; thanks for all the reviews and so quick, too! c: just wanna clear things up: my endings are sorta sudden occasionally (sorry about that! i prefer to keep the chapters around 1,000 words, usually, as i never really end up being able to push it without making the wording seem awkward, but i will try to make chapters longer in the future!) and, if i haven't made it clear (sorry if i haven't) mare is kind of.. not really _stupid_ but very incompetent in society and with friends, so she's very awkward (and forgetful) with people. and not NEARLY as mad or as bitter because she didn't grow up poor, she grew up with silvers. i'm trying to push this more in later chapters, really, so sorry about that if the sort of half-way figuring it out is weird.**

 **also if you can catch the references in this chapter... kudos.**

 **VI.**

"...But tell me about _you_ ," I protest.

Cal blinks, as if it's sudden that I asked. I have a _right_ to, of course, now that he's asked about me. There's not much to know, just as I've told him. _My name is Mareena Titanos, daughter of the late Ethan Titanos and Nora Noelle, I'm seventeen, very awkward_ (though I wouldn't admit that to many people in the Court) _, my favorite colors are purple and red, and I can control lightning because my parents were oblivions and storms respectively._ It sounds godawfully formal - anyway, I don't know much about _him_. Not much besides the obvious, anyway. His name is Tiberias Calore, shortened to Cal, the crown prince of Norta, a burner, eighteen to twenty years old (I have no idea how old he actually is, but I think that he's around there). And what much else?

"There's not much to know about me," he says, averting his eyes. He looks smaller at night, in the garden, but by only a little.

"I thought that too, but you seemed interested." There isn't much to know and I _still_ think that. But he's different - I know everything about me (I _hope_ ) but almost nothing about him. I need to know. I _want_ to know. We're going to be bound together for life; I want to know at least a little about him.

"You know everything to know about me," he says, but I glare at him and he shifts back. "...I like mechanics," he finally admits, as if it took a lot of pressure to admit that. But it's harmless. "Don't know why, but it's always been interesting. I have a few inventions of my own," Cal adds, smiling as if it's better now that I made him speak. Despite my affiliation with electricity, I was never the one to be mechanical. I hadn't expected Cal to be the mechanical type either, but he's full of surprises.

"Will you show me one day?" I ask him.

He blinks again. I guess he didn't expect me to ask. "Sure," he says, his voice steadier now. "I didn't think that you would be the person who would want to see."

"I'm not, usually," I confide. Cal stares at me for a moment - why would you ask if you usually don't want to see? I can imagine him asking, and truth be told, I don't really know the answer - and then looks away.

The silence between us is gentle, not awkward, and brings me a strange sense of nostalgia.

* * *

"Risky business, lightning girl."

I freeze, breath catching in my throat, at Elara's cold voice. I turn slowly, trying to force down the horror that bubbles up within me. "What was, Your Majesty?" I say quietly, squeezing the door handle harder than I should have.

Smoothing her blonde hair down further, the queen simpers at me. "Oh, Mareena," she sneers, "did you forget my ability?" She steps closer. "Of course I know your little, ah, _problem._ " Her eyes linger on my face. "And, of course, you're displaying it for all to see!" She laughs a little.

I flush a deep red. "Wh-what are you going to do about it?" I demand, knowing it's a stupid idea to provoke her further. "Is it so bad that I'm Red? You know I'm just like you. I have powers and everything. And I can be _strong_ like you."

Elara tips her head, blue eyes twinkling. "Hmm hmm _hmm_ ," muses the queen, "fair enough, little Titanos." She sneers at me. "But you _must_ keep it hidden. Try harder next time."

I squeeze the door handle tight again, feeling a sudden rush of worry. "So you're... letting me get married to Cal still?" I say faintly, eyes flitting back and forth between the door and the queen's face. I don't know why I care so much about getting married to Cal. My mind tells me that there's no other way to phrase the question. I don't really believe it, but I have to let it go.

"Of course I am," replies Elara, raising an eyebrow. "You're not getting married to _my_ son. Do you think I could care less? I won't even tell my husband. I have no reason to."

Oh. Of course there's no reason for her to care - she adores Maven, but seems to have no real opinion on Cal despite the fact that he's taking the throne next. Isn't she his mother too, though? Why ' _my_ son'? Why the preference for Maven? I stare at her for a moment, clenching my skirts with my other hand before nodding stiffly. "Okay," I finally snip, sharply to match her, and I slip into my room without looking back.

In the moments after, laying down in my bed, I think that I'll be growing closer to Cal in the next days. (I was wrong.)

* * *

It's not time for Training yet. I _was_ in it once, when Maven complimented me, and then got pulled out because of my ' _sickness_ '. Apparently that stigma's _still_ with me.

Elara had hissed in my ear that there was bleeding in Training ( _why?_ I'd asked, feeling a jolt of trepidation, and she'd ignored me) and it would be far too risky to even have the possibility that red blood could spill. At least, until I'd built a foundation strong enough for people to trust me. I don't really care either way, because I'd prefer not to bleed, nor to embarrass myself. Every day, I walk down to Lessons, and then one-on-one training with various members of House Titanos, the only ones who know my 'secret', which I hate. But I never see Ethan. Perhaps because they just want to keep him from me, just want to keep the solidarity of friendship just out of my reach. Perhaps he's gone off to the war like my dad did. He had a lot of training. I want to see him again so badly; my friend, my not-brother.

I don't see Cal. He doesn't come into my room at night another time like he had before. Maybe it's too risky, maybe he's too busy, maybe Elara tells him not to. I don't know. I do see him at some luncheons and dinners, but it's in public, and we can't talk much.

Instead, I'm drawn to Maven. He loiters around the castle much more than Cal does, so I see him more often. He's enigmatic, as is Cal, but I know much less about him and he never bothers to tell me; not like I ever ask. I'm allowed to take brisk walks to the garden after my schedule is officially 'completed', which is after dinner, and sometimes he's there too, glancing down into the water like it holds answers. We never speak and haven't really talked too much outside of that one day when I was trying out Training (and then got pulled). But in those evenings in the garden, trepidation swept away with the warm summer breeze, he knows I'm there just as I know he is, his gaze sometimes flitting up to meet mine, his mouth sometimes quirking in a lopsided smile.

Unlike Cal, I just can't get a hold on him, the quiet prince of fire that stares into fish ponds under trees and blankets of night sky. We breathe the same cool air, watch the same sunset as it crawls earlier each day, trace the same paths in the garden's soft grass. Sometimes he ignores me. Sometimes he smiles at me. Sometimes he's not there altogether. I feel like I don't know him at all, and yet the smallest part of me feels like I know him all too well. _Is he trustworthy?_ I ask that part of me. _No one is, not even Cal_ , that part of me answers.

One day I sit down at the edge of the same fish pond he does, but before he's there. I probably wouldn't have had the courage to do it had he been there; what's the point in breaking the relaxed silence? Maven appears just as I hoped he would, and then stares at me for a moment; a changed piece in an unchanging atmosphere. His eyes are blue like clear water, blue like the fish pond, though I guess I'd never had any reason to notice them before. Then he smiles, just a little bit, and makes his way to the fish pond, too.

"Hello," he says.

"Hi," I say.

My fingers skim the rim of the pond, ripples sending out over the water. I lift my hand, then dip my index finger back into the water, swirling it around and watching the water ripple. Maven watches me as if the behavior's peculiar, his eyes like Elara's, minus her hawk-like look. For a moment we sit in silence, my eyes on the water and his eyes on me. It's nostalgic, in a weird sense.

"We haven't talked much, Mareena," he says, taking my attention from the water.

 _Obviously_ pricks at the back of my throat. I'm not that snide girl anymore, I tell myself. "No," I agree. "I feel like we should've." Seeing each other so much and speaking so little.

Maven looks at me again, a half-smile twitching his lip. "Tell me about yourself?" he suggests, and the words sound strangely familiar.

* * *

We talk for a long while, talk until the sun has long set, talk about nothing and everything. The sense of familiarity I had in Cal strikes me even harder with Maven, but I'd known no one by the name of Maven except _this_ Maven. I couldn't have met either of them, anyway. They're princes, kept under lock and key, tightened security with no hope of escaping.

There are two notes on my bedside table when I get back, one short and simple, one winding.


	7. VII

**VII**.

There's something off, but I just decide to wait until the next evening to focus on the notes. I slip them away in my cabinet, the one I'd told the maids there was no need to clean, and then come back to them the evening after.

The longer note is from Cal. I'm not surprised that he wound write something of such length; he is a man of many words when the time comes for it, unlike Maven, whose sentences are short and mostly simple. Maybe he doesn't trust me that much yet, as opposed to Cal, who seems to trust as easily as he breathes, and even I know not to do that. But I can't criticize Cal for his life choices now, especially not after he's left me such a note. Cal doesn't apologize often, instead accepting when some mistake has come up or something has gone wrong. Yet he's nice enough, and I don't need apologies to make me weak-kneed.

He writes (in slightly messy handwriting, I can't help but noticing) that he'd tried to come up that night, but I wasn't there (so I must have been out _much_ longer than I'd realized, I think with a sinking stomach) so he'd instead considered and left this note to offer another time for us to meet. I thought it was vaguely sweet, in a strange way, and considering how much time I'd been spending recently staring at Maven, I probably should hang out with Cal more. Not that I have anything against Maven - he's nice, mysterious, strangely unique in his own Maven way. But he's my _fiance's_ brother. And me staring at him in the garden, bathed in the soft light of summer sunsets, as well as us sitting by the same fish pond chattering with smiles on our faces could come off as a bit... _weird_ , to put it kindly.

I'm not the girl to stare lovestruck into another's eyes, anyway. Eight-year-old me wasn't, twelve-year-old 'escape artist' me wasn't, the me now isn't. I learned not to do that because I had no one to look at in any situation ( _and you never will,_ the confines of House Titanos had whispered in my ear.)

Still, it must be easy to slip notes to one another in consideration of the fact that we are betrothed. Cal must have found it easy, and if I could slip away from House Titanos when I was merely twelve, I can find a way to smuggle the crown prince a simple note. Before bothering to read the short note word for word, I pull out some paper and a pen and begin scribbling down my response: summarized quickly by _Hello, thanks for talking again, sorry I wasn't here, we can arrange to meet sometime if you send another note,_ et cetera et cetera, in much more formal language with some extra details. There's no way to 'call' maids in this castle, though there was in the House Titanos quarters, probably because that's smaller. I never did and never will if I can help it. My blood color and the people I used to meet in the winding, dark streets of Red villages blanketed only by stars are my chains, my calling.

That tall boy with the blond hair, emerald eyes and lazy smile? My calling. That smaller girl with the paler skin and shiny red locks, knitting needles in hand? My creed. (That boy by the pond, his hair a swept back black and complexion a pale sheen? I don't know about him.)

I could never betray them. _I already have_.

I have flirted with the boundary line between Silvers and Reds, wondering where I lie. The Silvers' strength lies in their ability and power. The Reds are broken because of their blood. So what am I, with Silver ability and power, and Red blood? Am I strong? Am I weak? Am I neither? I don't know, just as I don't know how Silver parents could have produced a Red child like me, just as I don't know why they didn't bother to throw me out with their next morning's trash, on the front lines or not. I respect my lost parents above all Silvers, because I think that they are the only who could have borne a Red child and not drowned it in their bathtub.

"Miss Titanos?"

Perhaps I'm thinking too hard.

"Yes?" My voice is strong, as I hoped it would be, as I knew it would be. ( _You are not Red, if anyone asks_ , Nicholas instructs.)

"Do you need anything, My Lady?" _Don't call me My Lady. I'm just like you._

"...Take this note to my betrothed, the crown prince, and please don't tell anyone you took him anything." Don't say _please_ , Mareena. There is no please. They must obey, yes?

"Yes, My Lady," she says, carefully accepting the note from my hand, and though all I was doing was thinking, I can't help but tremble at the coincidence. The brunette maid watches me for a moment, then flexes her free palm as if it's sore. I catch the word _midnight_ written on her hand. I open my mouth to ask her about it, but she's... left already. _Maybe she was just sore, Mareena. Red servants work hard shifts. It could mean something personal to her. Don't waste your breath on it._ Don't waste my breath on it.

I relax for a moment and then remember the other note.

 _Mareena -_

 _Please meet me at midnight in the garden. Tomorrow night._

 _No one will stop you - I can make sure of it. This is very important, and while I hate to ask you this after just starting to talk to you, you_ have _to come._

 _Thank you. And please eliminate this note somehow after reading it. I'll do the rest._

 _Most sincerely,_

 _Maven._

Midnight. Again. My fingers tremble on the paper, my eyes flitting nervously to the door. I want to scream. I want to cry. Real Silvers don't scream and cry, Mareena, I tell myself. I inhale deeply.

In through the nose.

 _I came up to your room but... it seemed that you weren't there._

Out through the mouth.

 _I'll do the rest._

My lightning catches the paper. I watch it go up in flames and crumble to ashes. The ashes fall. Tomorrow night means tonight, because... because I waited a day. Oh god, I should have read them earlier. Or done something. I don't really know anymore; midnight, does that mean Maven has even more connections than I thought he did? Even more than Cal does? Who are you, Maven? And why in God's name do you want to meet at midnight - what is going on at midnight? What do you mean, you'll 'do the rest'?

There's no camera burning into my back, I realize. That's what's off. Oh, good God, Maven Merandus Calore. You really are a man of your word, aren't you? I can almost see him giving me that stupid little half smile. _Did you doubt me, Mareena_?

* * *

No, Maven Calore, I'd never doubt you.

"I didn't think you'd actually show up. I thought you might not have trusted me yet. But thank you," he breathes earnestly, blue eyes flickering up to meet mine. Black hair smoothed back, dark circles on his pale skin - is he not sleeping? Maybe it's just more pronounced in this light, the sun having long set and letting night roam free. It's a little before twelve, and I ran to get here, after hours of considering and considering. And more considering. He seems content, a little early as I am, as if he suspected that I would be early. Cal is strangely human now that I know him, but Maven, despite the fact that I'll be in a position of higher power than he is one day, seems like a shadow; unreal, strangely strong.

"There are no cameras here, Mareena," he confides, his voice low. Mareena sounds so formal, but I can't really think of a nickname besides Mare, and Cal came up with that. For some reason, I want him to be the only one who calls me Mare. It's probably just because we're betrothed, doomed to a life with each other - might as well have something like a nickname just for each other. Another part of me tells me that reason is bullshit.

"Why?" I ask.

"I don't know. There never has been, and I've never asked. It's a bit weird letting people know that you know about the camera systems."

I turn to face the stars. He can hear me whichever way I'm looking, and I don't feel the need to. "Not many people know about them?" I say, surprised.

"Not that I know of." He isn't looking at me either, massaging his eyes for a moment as if tired. I feel the strong urge to tell him to _get some goddamn sleep_. Sleep deprivation isn't nice at all, and I know that personally. "Just me, you because you can sense them, my mother, and the Sentinels that man the stations. As far as I know."

I want to ask him why his father doesn't know, but that's pointless. He probably doesn't know why. "Maven... why did you want to meet me here?" I finally say. It's what I really want to know, and what I really need to know. Why has my betrothed's brother asked me to meet him out in the garden, so far from other people, in the dead of night? I was suspicious; I am suspicious, but some part of me wants to see the best in Maven, even if I don't with everyone else. He blinks and then glances around, once, twice, like I flipped a switch.

There's no one.

"Maven-"

"Mareena," he interrupts, deadly serious, "what's the color of your blood?"

It's like the whole world stops at his question. The stars in the sky seem to blink out, the faint whisper of wind in the distance halts. The drum inside my chest stops beating, and there's nothing; nothing alive but this boy in front of me, his sharp blue eyes boring into mine. I could drown in them, the clear blue water, and I want to. I don't want to answer this. Not to him.

"Silver," I answer. The word trembles on my tongue.

"No you're not," he accuses. He pinches just a little bit of skin on my arm, but the silver paste holds. "You're not Silver. You can't be."

My heart leaps into my throat; what am I doing wrong? Am I not strong enough? Am I too soft? Does everyone know I'm Red? Should they put me in Training? Why does he think I'm Red. How does he know I'm Red?

"Everyone thinks you're Silver," Maven murmurs, lifting his hand to my palm, "but I know you're Red."

And then he speaks the most damning words of my life:

"Aren't you, Mare Barrow?"

I open my mouth, but he smiles as if he said something funny and leaves me.

"Come back, dammit!" I whisper-cry, the drum in my chest reigniting itself and pounding harder than I ever thought possible. I feel lightheaded, like I might faint, like I need the boy who knows my secret to come back and save me. The grass feels cold.

 **as a repayment for my months long absence from this story, have two relatively quick-written chapters**

 **i'm writing this while i'm on vacation and there's a wasp and it might sting me while i'm writing this. please review because a. i love hearing your feedback and b. it is absolutely TERRIFYING writing when theres a wasp that might sting you, and have pity on me for doing so /slain**


	8. VIII

**Some juicy Marecal for you all. It's kind of filler, but we've been focusing a liiittle too much on Mavey, haven't we?**

 **Anyway, I'm really glad nothing's confusing with all the history and that - if it gets a bit tangled, do feel free to leave a review or PM me and I'll either fix it up or help explain it! Your reviews mean a lot, so I hope you all enjoy this chapter -**

 **VIII.**

Cal taps his finger to his chin, staring down into the pond water. It's almost become our designated meeting place, because there's no one else there and we've met there a few times now. "My mother does most of the work," he says. "Dad got discharged a few years ago. Can't do much. Mom works up as a seamstress. You know, the ones who make all those fancy silks?" I nod. "Pays us lots, she does."

"What do you do?" I ask him.

"Servant for the Silvers." He grins quickly, flexing as if there's anything to show. Idiot. "As you can see."

I snicker. "There's nothing there but lard!"

" _Lard_?" he cries, pressing his hand to his chest and recoiling. "How could you say that, Mare? You pierce my heart... like an icicle!"

We both laugh, and Cal drops his hand to the ground. _I_ think he's a bit too young to be a servant; he's either my age (I just turned thirteen! Throw me a party) or a few years older, for we've only met a few times, all of which were in the dark, and I can't really see him too well. Silvers seem to have no regard for their servants anyway. I don't see servants much though, as they're known to gossip, and my House wants no one gossiping about me.

"That's cute," I tell him, "but I'm pretty sure an icicle can't pierce your heart."

He puts on a mock-grim expression. "Anything can pierce your heart if it tries hard enough." Then his 'mood' lightens as he punctures his words with a wink. The nerve of this boy! (Honestly, he should be thanking those parents of his for the fact that he's cute, or I would've smacked him a million times over by now.)

"Oh, you _idiot_ ," is the only exasperated reply I give him, but he laughs as if it means the whole world. His laugh is pretty cute. He's pretty cute. The way he snatches up my hand is pretty cute, and thank god for that, or else by this point I would've kicked him into next week.

* * *

This could not be worse.

My feet move of their own volition, and I know that because I don't really have the energy to move them myself. Either this is bad or this is really bad, and I am not too fond of either of those options.

Okay, even though it's not okay. So at the very least, Maven knows who I am. Who I was. I'm not Mare anymore, at least, not to anyone but Cal, and even then it's just a... nickname. And, laying it down bare-bones, he also knows that I'm Red. With Silver powers. This is not looking good for me and we're just on the groundwork now. Maven could potentially do whatever the hell he wants with that information, including spreading it and possibly getting me either murdered, publicly executed, or exiled. And that doesn't even cover the threat of where he got said information, because I have no clue. Said source could also spread it and also get me murdered and/or exiled.

And where it gets worse - how he got that info. I slam the doors to the Hall open and run my hand through my hair, hurrying down darkened corridors with no care if I'm seen or not. He _could_ have gotten it from Cal, if Cal is the Cal that I knew five years ago and therefore knows my fake name, or if he (Cal) knows it somehow else, which worries me further. This is a chain, a stupid, incomplete, shiny silver rusted red chain. One of these princes completes that circle, though the old me is begging me to ignore it. The old me is begging me to let myself forget him again, begging me to forget that boy by the pond, swept back black hair and cute smile, leaning close, too close, too close to really forget and -

Hell! I rub my head and shove through the door. I'm out of step again. Part of me wonders if I even really _want_ to remember. I don't... at least, I think. I want to put that boy behind me like I had done before, and keep him locked out of Summerton's diamondglass walls where he belongs. But if all evidence points to one of the princes being _that_ Cal... then what am I supposed to do?

I slow and sigh as I exit the doorway; these are the residence floors, and should someone catch me here I need two things: to look dignified and to have an excuse. I can do one easily and think up the other, as little old escape artist me was very good at. Ha! Blasts from the past all around today, huh. All I really need to do is avoid the Sentinels, who might see through me much more easily than others would. I pace my steps and focus on keeping a straight face. Excuses, excuses... How could I think up excuses?

A door down the hall swings open. I scurry back around the corner, splaying myself against the wall. I don't want anyone seeing me, that's for sure, though I am prepared.

There's chit-chat echoing down the hall. Two male voices, and... oh, hell _again_. Just my _luck_ that it happens to be Cal and Maven themselves, the two I was trying very very hard to ignore and/or not run into for a long while. My breathing eases, slows until where I'm hardly making a sound. I can just distinguish their words; they're discussing some strategy (war or chess? I can't really tell, and they seem to reference both), debating in a rather friendly tone until they finally come to a unanimous agreement on a way to approach. Their words are easy and smooth, and I barely hold in a sigh. They remind me of me and Ethan. Oh, Ethan, how I wish I could see my cousin again...

The two princes bid warm good-nights and then there's footsteps. They seem to be coming nearer, and I have... absolutely no way to make this less weird. Oh, goodness. Though I guess if it's just one of those two, and I'm hoping for Cal, it's not really _that_ bad, except for the fact that if it's Maven who rounds that corner I'm not sure if I can restrain myself from hitting him. I want answers! Is that _so_ hard to get around here?

And just because fate likes to spit in my face, who dares round the corner but Maven Calore himself? I've already relaxed my posture, and I step forward, opening my mouth to make some snarky remark (or something). Instead, Maven quells me with that mysterious little smile, half-twitch of his lip. "What are you doing up so late?" he asks, almost teasingly, like he didn't only a while ago make a statement that's pretty much sent me into paranoia hell. The nerve of this boy! Before I can answer he's down the hall, and I, wanting to get as close and as far away from him as possible in the smallest amount of time, turn on my heel and march in the opposite direction.

"What are you doing up so late?" asks a different voice, and I tense up. Oh, god, I completely forgot about Cal.

"Couldn't sleep." The answer falls from my lips easily, without much tremble. "I decided to go on a quick walk and... just lost track, I guess." I try to smile. I feel especially bare, though I'd worn a full dress and makeup down to my meeting with Maven to avoid any... _trouble_.

Cal smiles; grin is too wide and smirk doesn't fit him. His smile is so genuine is hurts. "That's fair." He glances me up and down, and the bare feeling swells, like I should've drowned myself in fluffy dresses and makeup. "I feel underdressed," he comments, but his tone is humorous. I laugh and hope it doesn't sound as uneasy to him as it does to me.

"It's not like it's a _date_ ," I reply, matching his tone and smile the best I can. Okay - easy banter, Mareena, keep it easy.

"Ah, but it could be," Cal whispers, like it's a secret. _Damn_! I set myself up for that one.

"Isn't it against protocol for betrothed to be alone together?" I ask. He hooks our arms together, and I tell myself the reason I don't pull away is because I'm too tired to really bother with it.

"We've been alone together before, what's the bother?" Cal shrugs it off, grinning widely now. Thank god he's cute, because I probably would've punched him at least once or twice had he been almost anyone else. His door is already open - I guess that's where he and Maven congregate - and he leads us in. "It's not very nice, so I'm sorry about that," he says. His touch isn't like electricity or flame or whatever those people say. His touch is warm and gentle, and I'm half-tempted to lace my fingers with his, though I don't.

There are books scattered everywhere, open to diagrams of soldiers and generals. While the war - and the Reds fighting it - have always made me a bit uncomfortable, my big concern is with the generals. My father was a general, and Ethan, though he's young and naive, is training to be one too. The thought of him as a general turns my stomach; I don't want the precious innocence he had stolen away from him, even though it's inevitable in this world, and that's the way things are here. Cal must notice I'm tense, because he laces his fingers with mine and squeezes my hand. I hate how easily he distracts me.

"You all right, Mare?" he asks, his tone gentle. Calmly, I breathe out and nod.

"I'm fine," I say, "just thinking."

He follows my gaze to the books, and frowns just a bit. I guess most Silvers are pretty accepting of it, and he was just talking strategy with Maven. My distaste is probably a little out there. "If that makes you, uh, uncomfortable, I'll just move them." I can appreciate the gesture, considering Cal's usual pride. We haven't talked much before, and though I doubt he'll always be like this and that he's probably just making an effort to welcome me more (we will be getting married, after all), it's nice enough.

"Oh, no, it's fine," I respond, waving him off. "I was just thinking about my cousin." He looks at me curiously, and I elaborate, "He's training to be a General, I think - Ethan Titanos, and not the dead one, though he was named after him." I twinge at my father's mention, and hope Cal brings up something else. The more I think about the war, the more I realize how much I hate it. He senses my discomfort and swings our joined hands a little; his are much bigger than mine, but look just as deft. He considers what to say for a moment, and then speaks.

"He'll be fine. He's from the same family as _you,_ so I doubt he'll have any problems." Cal smiles, his eyes meeting mine. I roll my eyes.

"Oh, _stop_." Goddamn this man and his stupid skill at making me smile; it's hard to push it down, but I just manage to restrain a grin by biting my cheek. "You've only seen me - what, once? - at Queenstrial."

"Well, then, I guess you won for a reason." A secretive smile. _I_ know that he didn't pick the winners of Queenstrial, and I probably wouldn't have been picked if he had; he hardly knows me, but I don't feel like ruining the good mood further, especially because it's probably one o'clock in the morning by this point and he must be at least a little tired, and his effort's rather commendable. "Maybe you should train with us."

I grumble. "Tried it once and it didn't work. Take it up with the Queen."

He gives me a look. "Why? I remember that day. You seemed fine. Not... sick." His tone is casual, but tinged with curiosity all the same. So maybe he _doesn't_ know I'm Red. Either that or he does know, and he doesn't want me to know that he does. It makes no sense. Elara knows already, so he would have no reason to hide that he does too, but how would he find out? Elara has no reason to tell him. I school my face into a flat expression, thinking quickly about how to answer him without giving anything away.

"It comes and goes. But it's not hereditary, so you don't have to worry about our kids." I wink at him daringly, and I relish in the surprised blush of silver on his cheeks, but the thought of children brings me mixed emotions. On one hand, considering how, er, _attractive_ Cal is, I'm certain I wouldn't mind creating a child with him. Multiple times, maybe, and the thought brings heat to my cheeks under the silver paste. On the other, if Cal didn't know my blood type... what would happen if said children came out Red-blooded? Especially the future Crown Prince...

Cal's recovered already. He leans in close, disrupting my train of thought quickly. His breath brushes the shell of my ear as he whispers, "I'm glad you're already considering it." The blush on my cheeks grows hotter and I'm incredibly glad that the paste is covering it, because I know that if he saw it'd only expand his ego.

"One of us has to." It's a test. He knows it, too. I don't turn to face him, waiting for him to make a move.

Cal laughs softly. "Who says I wasn't?" he whispers gently.

Before the shivers down my spine can even subside, Cal gently slips his hand to my chin. I know what he's going to do, but it's one in the morning and I'm not sure if we should take the risk of doing something so intimate so late at night because it could lead to a lot more, but when he turns my face towards him I don't complain. My breath hitches and he grins lopsidedly at the noise.

And then he kisses me, and Maven and Elara and my Red blood and his crown and the war books scattered on his table don't exist anymore. His touch is not urgent, but gentle, but I don't _want_ gentle - I yank him closer, impossibly close, kissing him deeply and harshly. He responds in kind, and the harsh longing that I'd been burying for so long is reflected in him, too.

I don't want him to give me everything. I don't need him to, either. I want him to give me enough to let me cling to him, the kind prince with kinder eyes. I want him to give me just enough so that he's the only Cal that I remember, but not so much that I let everything go.

And he understands, breaking away briefly for air before coming back again, fiercer and more passionate. He always understood me.


End file.
